


Fic - Eat Me, Drink Me - Missing Scene

by zoemathemata



Series: Eat Me Drink Me (Deaged!Dean) [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Deaged Dean Winchester, Gen, Kid Fic, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-03
Updated: 2010-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-19 19:19:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoemathemata/pseuds/zoemathemata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I mentioned to <span><a href="http://hoodietime.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://hoodietime.livejournal.com/"><b>hoodietime</b></a></span>  that I had cut some scenes from <a href="http://zoemathemata.livejournal.com/7014.html">Eat Me, Drink Me</a> in my haste to post it. This was one of them and it just wouldn’t leave me alone! So I decided just to have at it. Some knowledge of Monster's Inc is necessary, so I hope you've all seen it. Unbeta'd</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fic - Eat Me, Drink Me - Missing Scene

“Do you maybe want to color for a bit? There’s crayons and paper and some coloring books.”

Dean’s stuffed into the side of the sofa, watching _Monster’s Inc_ again. He is still sitting with Sam’s hoodie and he stares at Sam as Sam holds up the coloring book and jumbo pack of 64 crayons.

“Look it’s got a built in sharpener so you can even sharpen your own crayons when they get dull.”

Still silence as Dean’s big green orbs dart from the book, to the crayons and then back to Sam. Sam is nervous under the solemn gaze. Dean’s little pink lips purse up for a moment and then he tosses the hoodie-blanket aside and pushes himself off the couch, bare feet landing with a light thud on the floorboards.

He’s wearing the tiny jeans and long-sleeved blue shirt that Sam got him at Wal-mart yesterday. He had been wearing socks when they went to play outside but when they came back in, Sam thinks the socks got stuck in Dean’s little boots when he shucked them. Sam knows he should put Dean’s socks back on to keep his feet warm but Dean’s miniscule feet are _so cute_. They are soft on the bottom and the perfect baby pink and creamy white color. It’s almost inconceivable the little appendages will turn into Dean’s large, rough feet ever.

Dean does a kind of skip-walk into the kitchen, all jerky limbs, unsteady wobbles and frantic energy. Apparently you have to color at the kitchen table, because he’s already pulled back one of the heavy chairs using all his might and climbed up, resting back on his heels as he kneels on the chair so he’s big enough to comfortably reach the table top.

Sam carefully sets out some blank pieces of paper that he purchased, two color books, and the box of crayons. And then he just looms over Dean, not quite sure what to do.

Dean blinks up at Sam and then at one of the empty chairs and then back at Sam.

“Oh. Do you want…?” Sam points at himself and then at the chair. While Dean’s look doesn’t change it’s completely clear he thinks Sam is an idiot. “Sure, I can color with you.”

Sam eases himself down into the chair and drums his fingers for a second. Right. Coloring. All that time at Stanford is totally gonna pay off now. Dean has already grabbed on of the books and is flipping through it with purpose. He stops at a picture of Big Bird, rips it out of the book with aplomb and hands it to Sam.

“For me?” Sam eyes the sketch of Big Bird. “Okay. I can do that.”

Dean has already opened the box of crayons and is scrutinizing them with intensity. He finally pulls out a bright yellow, two kinds of orange and the black one. He plops them down next to Sam. When Sam doesn’t immediately get to work, Dean eyeballs him.

“I guess you were always bossy then, huh?” Sam says with an amused huff as he picks up the yellow crayon and starts shading in Big Bird. Dean watches for a moment until he is satisfied that Sam is doing it correctly before he starts choosing his own picture.

The color in silence for half an hour. Dean’s head pops up every couple of minutes to check on Sam’s progress. When he sees Sam close to the end of a picture, he chooses another one, selects the appropriate crayons and takes unneeded crayons back, placing them carefully in the box. Little Dean shows the same care with the colored wax that Big Dean shows with his guns. While Sam has been carefully coloring in Sesame Street characters ( _very_ carefully since Dean had frowned severely at him for a couple mistakes outside the lines) Dean has been hunched over a piece of blank paper, crafting a masterpiece.

A secret masterpiece, since he won’t let Sam have a peek. Finally Dean declares his _object d’art_ complete and sits back on his haunches with a smug look.

“All done?” asks Sam, putting his green crayon down. He’s been working hard on Oscar the Grouch for the last three minutes.

Dean nods and then pushes his picture over to Sam.

Sam widens his eyes appreciatively and makes what he assumes are appropriate noises of admiration.

“Wow, Deano, this is really good,” he says as he stares at the picture.

Okay. The sun, he can definitely make out the sun; big yellow blob hovering off in the top corner.

House is easy enough too. It’s got cross-sticks for windows and a door with a handle with a triangle roof. Grass is easy to pick out as well, green spikes jutting up from the bottom of the page at all angles.

Then there’s a large blue and purple kind of splotch with what he thinks are hands and feet and… a plaid shirt? Maybe? And then a green circle with one big circle in the center and… a hat, he thinks. And then a smallish figure off to the side wearing a different shade of blue…

Holy shit. Sam thinks he gets it.

He looks at Dean whose eyes are shiny and proud and _happy_ and then back down at the picture.  
“I’m Sully?” Sam asks as he points at himself and then at the picture. “Like the big blue guy in the movie?”

Dean bobs his head in happy agreement, seemingly pleased that Sam understood.

“And Bobby is Mike,” Sam continues and he moves onto the round, green blotch in the middle. The blotch that Dean tried to draw a ball-cap on.

Again Dean nods vigorously.

“And this is you.” He gestures to the stick figure in blue. Probably the penguin pajamas.

Dean’s chin goes up and down again and he snatches the picture back and puts a big ‘D’ at the bottom of it in black.

It’s Sam’s turn to stare at Dean in wonder as Dean packs up all the crayons meticulously. Sam thinks somehow in his young brain, Dean’s doing okay with this entire situation because he’s drawn some kind of parallel between his life and Boo’s; trapped in a strange world with two equally strange beings who don’t want to do him any harm, but are taking care of him.

Sam tries desperately not to laugh as he says his next words. “Why don’t we go show Bobby? I’ll help explain who Mike is since he hasn’t seen the movie.”

Dean jumps off the chair, fisting his masterpiece and scampers down the hall.  



End file.
